


His John Watson

by dragonism



Category: Sherlock - Fandom, johnlock - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Other, Post Reichenbach, implied PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 02:26:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9695627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonism/pseuds/dragonism
Summary: Post Reichenbach, Sherlock finds himself frequenting the same terror in his sleep. Returning to the times he was held captive, and tortured in his two year absence from Baker Street. He'd be handling the stresses alone, but they were building, worsening.That was until somebody noticed his anguish.





	

The scream.

That’s what woke him up. The sound of his own ear piercing scream echoing in the darkness of his bedroom. He was trembling, clawing at his own skin as he could still feel the burning, the only cold relief was that of his own tears hitting the scars. One blink, then another. Fighting off the image of the dark figure, light from a lone crack of a window making the knife he held glint.

The figure drew closer and Sherlock snapped. Curling in on himself, hands entangled in and pulling at his own hair as broken sobs escaped his lips. It was over as soon as he could move and yet he knew it was never over. That in a day or two the same would happen again. He’d be back there, back under the glares and sneers of those who were entertained only by his pain. Unable to escape, chained down my his own mind.

It was times like these that the floodgates began to open, he couldn't stop them. He was weak, afraid and alone, and any barrier he could have held up before now crumbled against his will. As he sat like a child, shoulders shaking and body folded to curl into a ball, the voices took upon him their onslaught.

_Freak - Heartless - Psychopath_

Another sob, a shake of his head.

_Bastard - Idiot - Loner_

"No..." He shook his head more, the action becoming violent as he tried to push the thoughts away.

_Dag - Pariah - ARSEHOLE - COCK_

There was a sharp intake of breath at the familiarity of the voice that now sounded in his head. This was no longer his childhood bullies; no longer anybody on the force; no longer a random stranger he deduced. This was his friend. His friend whom he hurt, who had despised him for what he did. Who he saved.

Now he was back there again, running to escape the three men. They were armed with better weaponry than him but he would take them out if necessary... It was necessary.

Vivid. The memory was back at the forefront of his mind, still chiming with insults as he saw the dark drips of substance that puddled by his feet. Three men- four bullets. He told himself he had to do it, that it was what was needed if he wanted to keep his friends and everybody he loved safe, but even to this day he could still see their expressions.

His deductions were both a blessing and the greatest curse. For he knew everything about those men from simply a glance. He knew about their families and how they were payed to do this. About their guilt and about their despair. He knew what he was doing by taking their lives.

_Chicken - Jerk - Sherlock_

With each gasping sob, he curled more in on himself, trying to block out the world as the voices rang in his ears, as he himself mentally screamed back to tell them to stop. Every so often his words escaping his lips with the cries for help.

_Sherlock - I'm here - It's me_

Then; it all stopped.

Quiet descended upon his mind as a warmth spread across his shoulder blades. It was welcoming, wonderful, a heat that pushed away the invisible pain with its mere ghosting touch, and Sherlock knew exactly what it was. Or should he say whom it was:

"John."

He lifted his head as his heart returned to its steady thud, teary eyes met with that of another figure. Though this time he was not dark, nor was he looming, or condescending. He looked at the shaking man with kind and concerned eyes, with a glance that told him everything was okay now.

_John - You're safe - It's okay_

The new calls from the depths of his mind were welcomed as he pushed himself off the bed, unable to stop himself in his open state from lunging for the man in front of him. However it wasn't violent, he was protecting himself but in an entirely different manner. Here his arms found their way around the smaller mans middle, his forehead pressed against the doctor's shoulder as he repeated his name with a smile of relief.

"I'm here Sherlock. I'm always here."

That was all that needed to be said. The only exchange that needed to happen at the moment in which John's arms found their way around Sherlock's waist to hold him in return. There was much to be discussed, and both men knew of that looming task, yet for now it was set aside.

For now they were together.

Sherlock Holmes and his John Watson.


End file.
